


Shovel Talk

by mickyy



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Foggy Nelson didn't do anything to deserve this, Frank Castle knows all this and loves him anyway, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, M/M, Matt Murdock is HAPPY because he deserves it and i said so, Matt Murdock is a little shit™, fluff???, idk what this is, more comedic gold than fluff i think, prankster Matt Murdock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickyy/pseuds/mickyy
Summary: Is there a correct way to react when you find out your friend is dating the fucking Punisher?Frank Castle was literally *right there* when I walked into my friend's apartment this morning, wearing my friend's clothes.47 AnswersTop Answer:high five your friend
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Comments: 19
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

“Foggy?” Matt asked. Except Foggy knew him too well—Matt had known he was coming at _least_ since he turned onto his street. Matt was just letting him know where he was: his bedroom. But when Foggy didn’t answer him, Matt poked his head through the doorway to scope out what was going on. His hands were fiddling with the tie around his neck. He looked, well…not dead. Not injured. 

Alive and well. 

Which meant he was perfectly capable of explaining. Foggy just pointed wordlessly at the bullet-riddled vest laying on the couch. The _bloodstained, kevlar_ bullet-riddled vest, with a _white skull_ spray-painted on the front. It smelled like...like metal and smoke—except maybe that was gunpowder, Foggy didn’t make a habit of being near guns, so he couldn’t tell—and blood, and Death. 

Matt sighed and swiped a hand through his hair. He padded out to stand in front of the vest and planted his gaze—well, his eyes leveled straight at Foggy’s left ear, but it was his attentive stare. The _paying-attention_ kind. “Foggy—“ Matt stopped himself and took a deep breath. That was an apologetic tone. Last time Foggy heard that tone, in this apartment, when he’d caught Matt in a vigilante-related lie, his whole world turned upside-down. 

“—I’m the Punisher, too,” Matt finished. 

Foggy’s heart skipped a beat not unlike a record would if someone took a knife and carved the likeness of Frank Castle’s skull sans bullet hole into it. And then, of course, he realized that there was a metric fuckton of reasons why that wasn’t possible. Before he could point any reasons out, though, Matt was getting scolded by someone else. “Fuck’s sake, Red, stop bein’ a shit.”

Foggy’s jaw dropped. “That was—“ _—the owner of the vest holy fuck it was him holy shit oh my god oh my g—_

Matt held up a finger and mouthed, _Watch this._

He grinned, wide and cheshire-like, as he only ever did when he was about to be a little shit. “What’s that? I can’t hear you, I’m blind.” And the next moment Matt ducked backward, still grinning like a maniac, as a boot came flying out of the bedroom. It slammed into the wall next to the fridge; Foggy looked at it until he decided that was definitely not Matt’s boot, then turned back to Matt’s bedroom doors. 

Frank Castle, the Punisher, a spree killer and mass murder, and also one of Foggy and Matt’s clients, walked out of the bedroom in army pants and Matt’s black ‘I’m not Daredevil’ sweater. With only one boot on. So it was more of a limp, really, but he wasn’t injured—Foggy snapped his gaze back up to Frank Castle’s hands, which were not carrying guns. Oh, thank God. Oh, thank Jesus, thank the Baptist guy, and thank whoever else people were supposed to thank when Frank Castle didn’t have any guns. 

Castle walked over to the kitchen to retrieve his boot. As it turns out, he did have a gun, tucked in his waistband, and Foggy took back all of his thanks. Because Frank Castle _did_ have a gun. And Foggy was scared.

And of course Matt knew it. He probably heard…what, the hitch in Foggy’s breath, his heart sputtering like a broken faucet, how his muscles tensed. Probably smelled the fear on him, or something completely insane like that. “Foggy would be more comfortable if you emptied your gun and put it in the fridge.” 

Foggy leaned over to Matt. “Why the fridge?” 

“Sorry, Foggy, is that not out of sight enough?” Matt asked. “I wouldn’t know.” Frank snorted and shut his gun in the fridge. He also made a little show of putting his mag and the chamber bullet in two different drawers, which only made Foggy marginally more comfortable because Frank Castle in your best friend’s apartment wearing your best friend’s shirt was a hell of a thing to have sprung on you. 

Frank nodded at Foggy. “Nelson,” he greeted, not unpleasantly. 

“Mr. Castle,” Foggy replied in his Lawyer Voice. “Good morning. Sidebar, Councillor?” Foggy inched backwards so as not to turn his back on the serial killer in the room and he dragged Matt with him. 

“Are you about to kill me?” Matt asked. “Because we have a meeting at the office in twenty minutes, and Señor Lopez doesn’t speak English.” 

“Karen can translate for me,” Foggy replied. 

“Do I need to call my priest and ask for last rites?” 

“Not yet. In the spirit of being on time for our meeting with Señor Lopez, I’m just gonna bring up one concern: how the hell am I supposed to give the shovel talk to the fucking Punisher?” 

“Well,” Matt smirked. “I can tie him up for you.” 

Nope. No way. Not doing this. Foggy socked Matt in the arm, spun on his heel, and promptly left the apartment without a word. Matt could get to work on his own today.


	2. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an argument

“I’m the Punisher?” Foggy said. “That was the _best lie_ you could come up with—“

Matt cut in, “That was _purely_ to fuck with you, I’m a _much_ better liar than that—“ 

“Fourth commandment, asshole: ‘Thou shalt not kill,’” Foggy stated firmly. “What about that? Where’d _that_ fit into your lie?” 

“Fifth, actually, but—“

“Fifth? What’s more important than not killing people?” 

“‘Honor thy mother and father,’” Matt recited without pause. “And three about respecting God above all else. But—“ 

“Wait, what if my mother and father tell me to go kill someone?” Foggy asked. “That’s _before_ killing, so should I do it, since that’s the more important commandment?” 

“It’s not—what the _fuck_ , Foggy, _no_ , you _don’t_ kill anyone. _Ever_ ,” Matt stressed, tilting his head at Frank with his signature _I’m-not-starting-this-fight-right-now-but-this-is-100%-about-you look_. And Frank just grunted and rolled his eyes. “You took a morality class at Columbia, you _know_ this.” 

“Hey, you fuck with me, I fuck with you.” Foggy paused. “And I took that class for a girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short scene that i could not fit in with the actual fic because of reasons ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> ok quick question, 
> 
> how does one format a Q&A website in a summary and did i do it right? 
> 
> it's 3am. help


End file.
